


Touch of Night

by maidenstage



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, F/F, F/M, I'll add more characters to the tag as i go, Multi, OT3, Polyamory ftw :3, Slow Burn, can't have polyship without some drama~
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 10:24:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15141080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maidenstage/pseuds/maidenstage
Summary: The Creed of a Hunter is set in its simplicity:To hunt. To stalk. To slay. To protect.Cana Alberona, a second generation hunter has no say in her path, but she makes due with the days she is given. But when dark forces stir and create an unbalance in the shadows, it's up to her and her compatriots to keep the creatures at bay. Easier said than done, especially when her day-life and nightlife overlap each other and cause a collision she has no hope of stopping.





	Touch of Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of inspired by a novel series by Patricia Briggs (look up 'Moon Called', the first book of the Mercy Thompson series and give it a read- it's definitely worthwhile!), but I've kept fairly close to FT's storyline. Sorta.
> 
> I am honestly not going to give this story too much attention plot-wise but I may be persuaded if enough people are interested. Comments are so helpful, it'd help me greatly if anyone reading this story could give me some feedback! 
> 
> I may change some things later down the road but updates are expected to be around a week or two depending on my workload, please be patient!
> 
> Anywho. Enjoy!

* * *

Nights in Magnolia Town were tame most of the time, only with an occasional skirmish now and then that sent lesser creatures to tuck their tails and hide for the remainder of the night. However tonight, in the slums of Magnolia, it seemed that this night was an auspicious time to hunt.

The town of Magnolia was one of the port along the coast to the kingdom of Fiore; her history (or geography really) wasn’t all that good, to be honest, but she did know that Magnolia in the center of the southeastern part of Fiore, not all that far from another town named Hargeon. _That_ town had its own problems with the supernatural, but at least there was already a team of hunters that could handle the problem. Magnolia was all her’s. Well, for the most part anyways.

Because it faced the sea, it became a gateway for spirits and humans alike, what with it being a port town and all that. Water was a spiritual conduit for sprites and other creatures, or that was what Father Block had mentioned. From the lore that was drilled into her head, Magnolia was once a sanctuary for humans, spirits and creatures alike- even demons as well, thanks to a powerful fairy that kept the peace between them. She thought the whole thing was total bullshit, but try telling that to a fanatical priest who was slightly senile. Maker knew her ass _smarted_ when she so much as made a face. But according to him, centuries later the peace broke, supposedly by a powerful demon who sought her power and caused strife between the mortal and immortal beings.

Typical fairy tale shit.

Currently Magnolia had become a neutral territory that held onto a secular lifestyle that most humans knew to expect; they certainly didn’t know that their humble town was slowly becoming the breeding ground for demons and monsters, but hey, that was typical for most humans. They would rather close their eyes and shut their ears to the truth than face the darkness. Not many knew that the friendly face they see most days had a smile full of sharp teeth. It was her job to keep that careful veneer from being lifted. God knew she wished she could have been born ignorant to the things that lurked in the shadows. She wasn’t given the choice though. Yet the worst of the activity stemmed from the red-light district of Magnolia; it held a reputation for danger, a hot spot of sin that bred in shadows; the local authorities have tried many times to ‘clean up’ the district, yet for all their championing of creating such a place of new beginnings, other beings that crept in the dark made sure to sew the depravity and seedy lusts of humanity.

Human’s always seemed to invite the very things that frightened them, sometimes without realizing it, just before that thing decided to make a meal out of you.

 

She was going to  _kick his ass_.

That was the prominent thought that stuck to her while she lay on her back, the cold wet asphalt of the alleyway dampened by her leather jacket and jeans made the situation all the tenser. Her discomfort didn’t make her situation any better, but it certainly didn’t make her feel warm and fuzzy. All she was aware of before she had been knocked down on the ground as she had a cute guy and a drink with her name on it, and she wasn’t going back to either of them any time soon. Not that she didn’t enjoy the occasional excursion in dark creepy alleyways near seedy bars close to the red light district (hint: she  _didn’t_ ), but sometimes a girl really just wanted to be  _romanced_ , was that too much to ask? It was just typical, that the day before her break from her day job, her  _nighttime_ duty had to rear its ugly head and ruin everything.

There was a sound that snapped her out of the pained daze that made every nerve in her body freeze, her instincts _screaming_ at her to run and hide; she knew better though, that no matter how far she ran or how long she hid, they would always find her.

Blinking her eyes, she ignored the disturbing sounds of what she could only guess was _feasting_ , her mind shying away from describing further detail to what sounds assaulted her ears; she flexed her fingers and limbs, mentally categorizing any damage done to her body from the few moments before she found herself in a shit-infested alleyway.

Why couldn’t her prey make its nest in an abandoned mansion somewhere, where there was a chance of snagging something for herself? Apparently, demons ingrained their cliche of being as creepy and repulsive even in an aesthetic sense. Sure, it made hunting them just as much of a pain in her ass, but at least she could use the environment against them; this also made them predictable, and therefore they were an easy target to hunt.

 _I could have taken that guy’s ‘offer’ if this asshole hadn’t ruined it for me._  

One day off-- just _one_ day off was all she wanted, but **no** , she couldn’t even have that, could she? The woman reflected bitterly how she ended up tailing the creature that had lured its’ prey; the night started out simple enough: she was near the last hour of her shift and the place had mellowed down as the local band took a short break. The atmosphere of the bar thrummed with an unbridled energy that she could feel even tucked at the back of the bar. The woman was on her third shot of whiskey and the burn was pleasant, made all the sweeter by the handsome man who bought her the shot.

In the back of her mind, she knew there was something not quite right, something nagging her to exercise caution.

They were heavy with flirting, and she was close to calling for her thirty-minute break to settle the itch that she knew the man could reach and _scratch_ when she felt **it**. The brush of her _gift_ alerting her of the _other_ presence that dwelled inside the bar. She wanted to curse, but the effort would have been wasted. Casually she tossed her mane over her shoulder, her eyes casting a glance at the crowd when she found them; a tall man who dragged a woman behind him towards the back exit. She noted the girl’s dazed expression, how mechanical her movements were and swore under her breath. She was under the damn thing’s thrall.

_This is gonna get ugly._

She had enough sense to make a quick excuse and hasty exit to follow after the two; creeping silently, she extended her sense, making sure no other humans or _other_ beings were around before she pursued the duo; at the end of the alley she found that the thing had practically begun to unhinge its jaws to take a massive bite out of the girl. A quick scan of the dingy alleyway showed her that she was alone and set out to save the girl before she became dinner for the demon.

But that’s where everything turned to shit.

As she began to reach for her throwing knife that lay tucked along the inside of her leather jacket, she was suddenly lifted, as if plucked by invisible fingers and tossed, crashing into the garbage and other filth before rolling across the asphalt. It was there that she lay as she finished assessing what damage that her body had inflicted by the unknown force that threw her.

She had a few guesses as to what had happened in the seconds she spent being hauled in mid-air; the first was that she was drunker than she thought and this was all a waking nightmare; the second was that the demon she was hunting was much more powerful than they had let on; and the third was that said demon was smart and laid out a trap for her to fall into. Neither option really appealed to the brunette (and she wasn’t even _tipsy_ \- the previous bar guy must have been watering down the whiskey, the cheap fucker), a grunt of pain the only sound she made before she adjusted her bearings to make sure nothing was broken. She didn’t linger on the ground long, for the sounds coming closer towards her weren’t something she was keen on remembering later. _If I make out of this alive_ , she thought sourly, taking a shallow breath before she moved.

As she rocked herself upright, her hands placed behind her head to launch herself back on her feet in a backspring, she shook herself of what she _hoped_ was just dirty water and faced the taunting figure. Eyes that glowed red in the darkness seemed to emanate a menacing aura before the figure stepped closer, revealing a grotesque snout and dripping fangs that seemed too big for its jaw to fit; the demon was breathing with its mouth open, showing impressive sharp teeth, completing the picture of horror as it stepped closer to reveal its body, a bulbous humanoid with grey skin; his clothes were stained with dried blood, some old and some, she suspected with dread, was fresh.

It dawned on Cana that she was too late to save the girl. 

Ignoring the guilt that dropped like a lead weight in her gut, she inhaled through clenched teeth and shifted herself slowly, trying to draw little attention to herself as possible while her mind raced on how to defeat the bastard ambling slowly towards her.

The demon twitched its mouth in a parody of a grin and lifted its claws, its fingers enclosing around what appeared to be a human hand, who made a rude gesture by rubbing said hand against his crotch, a hand that did _not_ belong to him. Not wanting to look but her compassion drove her to seek the girl, her stomach rolled at the horrific sight. The spot where the woman stood was replaced with gore, chunks of flesh were torn, shredded asunder were found against the brick walls and upon the ground where piss and assorted filth joined the natural environment of the alleyway, adding a displaced sense of otherness that would have unsettled most.

 

Cana Alberona was far too used to such a terrifying scene; she had seen too many in her young life that she had become almost numb. The sight caused her stomach to roll, bile that wanted to rise and spew the sickness she saw was forced back down with a deep gulp. It was telling that despite the many years of being a hunter, she would never get used to a demon’s ‘feeding’. Even now she wished she could turn back around and walk away, but she didn’t. Pity kept her in place and made her face the creature, pity that bubbled forth for the young girl that came in at the wrong place and wrong time. The thought hardened the woman further, spurring her rage and she narrowed her eyes at the beast.

Oh, she was going to enjoy killing this thing. It was rare that she ever felt anything while hunting- duty, a little boredom perhaps, but nothing to suggest that she enjoyed what her work entailed. It wasn’t like there was any reward afterward, at least not anything she could use. Hunting wouldn’t buy back the fleeting normalcy she rarely experienced in the modern world, but Cana accepted a long time ago that her life was never ever going to be normal again.

Apart from the mundane concerns that most people associated themselves with, who turned a blind eye to the things that crawled in the dark, Cana’s life was overcast in shadow, lighted only in tones of grey and the frequent sepia that splashed into her life. She accepted she wouldn’t see much color in her life; she had learned to take things in stride.

The girl, who what remained of her was the hand the demon clutched and the chunks of organ and flesh that roughly splashed against the alleyway was robbed of a life of color. And that was all the more reason for Cana to bare her teeth back in a twisted grin of her own and fished her knife’s out. The blades in her hands were a comfort to her, though she wished she had brought her gun with her. As proficient as she was dual-wielding her blades, it would take careful planning and cunning to kill this demon, and she had the disadvantage of being slightly intoxicated from the alcohol. Hesitating would only kill her faster, and so with a simple plan of ' _kill it before it killed you'_ brought her to action.

With a bellow, she charged the demon, throwing herself recklessly with the drive to avenge the nameless woman who died before she could truly live. The creature pivoted away from the swipe of her knife, a guttural laugh following Cana that set her teeth on edge. She turned, kicking out her leg against the demon’s chest, sending it skidding a few feet while Cana regained her equilibrium to execute a counter-strike. Before she could, however, she was lifted again, and without warning she was slammed down on the ground, knocking her flat on her back. Wind expelled from her lungs and tears sprung forth without her permission while her mind screamed to _fight_ , yet as she lay on the ground, the sense of danger increased as a shadow hovered over her form, obscuring the light from the moon hanging overhead that was her only source of illumination.

“My my, what luck! Dinner _and_ dessert, all in one sitting.”

It clicked suddenly that the presence approaching her wasn’t the demon’s, her dazed vision looking to find where the voice came from, only to still. The man who she flirted with and bought her those shots approached with the casualty of a man taking a leisurely stroll through the park. The soft tap of his shoes clicked in her head like a death knoll- _tap...tap...tap..._ -before he stopped a few feet from her. The demon, who stood as still at the approach of the man, cowered before the man and let out a whimper 

“But then again,” the man said in a thoughtful tone, “I don’t recall giving you permission to _eat_ , now did I?”

It was then that she heard it, behind the whimpering from the cowering demon was chuffs of breath that mumbled from its jaws a tiny plea.

“P...pw...pwes...”

It began to shake, a tremor that rippled through its body so hard that its body seemed to distort; suddenly it dropped to its knees, a groan vibrating along the walls of the alley, making the sound eerier. As the sounds grew deeper, the shudders that racked the creature’s body decreased, until what knelt in place of the beast remained only a disheveled and bloodied man.

“--h-hel--help me...please...”

The sound of retching soon followed his words, violent heaves and splashes of puke soon expelled from his mouth and the urge to join was strong. Only the smell and the presence of the other man kept her still while she sought to remain relaxed, feigning immobility while keeping the tips of her fingers lax over the handle of her knife. _No sense in making the same mistake twice,_ she thought while her gaze was trained from one man to the other. She was aware that the man knew she was conscious, yet his focus was trained upon the cries of the man-demon.

The sound of a tongue-clucking brought her body to tense, the apparent attention that shifted changed the atmosphere onto the creature-turned-man. Her senses became stressed, highly attuned to the soft sobbing of the man came to the soft footfall; it approached, seemingly towards Cana before passing her prone body toward the sick man-creature. Slowly as she dared, irises revealed beneath the sweep of lashes in a cracked gaze that observed. 

“Ah, another failure. You lasted far longer than the others before they degenerated.”

A chill ran through Cana, so deep it ached in her bones, an ache that she didn’t want to name, yet it could only be labeled as _fear_. Her mind raced, projecting a flash of the man smiling, looking at her with what she thought was sexual interest. Now she realized the look wasn’t for her as a woman to bed, but to _eat_. She wished she could be disturbed by this realization, it was a far better alternative to the sheer **panic** that raced through her mind. 

_Fight now, panic later._

Easier said than done. Carefully she shifted her body, ignoring the pain racing through her body like lightning and with a closed-mouthed groan Cana stood to face her enemy. He seemed distracted by the demon-man sobbing on the ground, who cowered at the other man standing over him, rasping pleas in between great gasps of breath as if he was choking in between desperate supplication to his life.

 “P--puh--pl--”

 She heard a sigh.

 “A pity...you held such promise.”

No amount of training would ever prepare Cana as watched the creature suddenly _explode_ without warning. The horror of watching the man who once was sitting there pleading with tears in his eyes and blood and vomit on his clothes suddenly burst in a shower of gore was a shock to her eyes. If she would live past this ordeal, she would live with the nightmares of seeing such a careless slaughter. 

If she would live _at all_ she would drink until she blacked out. 

Adrenaline kicked in her veins and roared in her ears that tuned out the need to turn around and run, like the sane, rational part of her _wanted_ to do. Sweat dotted her brow as terror flooded her. This wasn’t the first time she was faced with a being capable of handing out her death. That was her life. That was her fate, one that she had no choice in. 

But she had a choice in how she would die.

Being on her back and lying down waiting for her enemy to finish her off was not how she wished to die. In an effort that was hercule, Cana sat up from the ground. Ignoring the aches in her muscles and bones, she stood until her stance was grounded. Her fingers brushed against her back pocket for her cards, the only weapon that would help her stand a chance against the creature before her. That offered little comfort in her battle against the evil before her, but it was all she had. If she timed this right though, she could stall it long enough before her back up would arrive.  _If_ back up would arrive. Did she send out the distress spell before she left the bar? She couldn't remember...

_Let’s hope they arrived on time._

Cana didn’t want to think about the possibility that help wouldn’t arrive before her luck ran out. “I’m impressed you can still stand,” the creature mused while watching her. “Though most Hunters are unlike any of your caliber.” 

“Well, what can I say. I’m one of a kind.” The casual quip felt sparse, yet retained the venom she felt. The effort to speak was difficult, as the pain from her fall reached to her jaw. In order to survive this she would need to goad the creature into coming closer, which meant acting like a cocky newbie. Her pride was funny like that. Yet given her dire situation, pride would have to take a backseat. Now to use her famous mouth to bring him close. Blue eyes glared haughtily at the demon as Cana continued her tactic. “Can’t say the same for you though,” she uttered with disdain. “You’re a sick, murdering piece of shit with a superiority complex that probably compensates your low ranking in the demon pecking order.” She saw him stiffen and she knew she had him. _Now to reel him in..._

“I’ll even bet that you’re not even the mastermind behind that thing. You’re just a grunt and not even an important one. You’re nothing but a glorified babysitter.”

By now she could see he was shaking with rage. The longer she talked there stood a chance that she would make her move.

“Are you _really_ in any position to throw insults at the monster that’s about to kill you?” He spat out, teeth bared and elongating cruelly.

“Probably not,” Cana admitted. “But at least I’ll die for me and my own. You though? You’ll die being nothing but a Highlord’s bitch--”

 “Shut the fuck up!!!”

Again, she was lifted and thrown on the ground, her head hit the ground with a crack that would have concerned her if it weren’t for the fact that she could feel _pain_ all over. She barely got her breath back before a hand gripped her throat and squeezed. The conflicting sensation of being choked while her head screamed with pain and dizziness nearly made her vomit. She could just barely see her assailant yet the smell of death permeated around him like a fog. But despite being thrown on the ground (again) and will most likely endure a concussion, Cana had him right where she wanted him.

As she was lifted by the sheer strength of the man holding her neck, her entire body felt the pull of gravity bare down on her. Cana held onto her consciousness by a thread. Her right hand brushed her back pocket for her cards, clutched between her index and middle finger, she carefully tucked the card against her palm, waiting until the time was right.

“You’re going to die, bitch,” he whispered, bringing her face closer to him. “I’ll make sure you suffer when I eat you.”

_Now!_

Swiftly she brought her hand out and placed the card on the creature’s chest, the face of the card bringing relief. A picture of a figure falling atop a tall structure, a flash of lightning striking the building brought Cana a sense of relief. The Tower was a card suited for immobilizing her prey, the effect lasting as long as the card was pressed to their chest. She was fortunate to have snuck the card past the creature’s clothes and stuck it to its skin while he was distracted. The problem _now_ was that he still gripped her throat in a tight vice that made breathing difficult.

With a strained sound, Cana wheezed and huffed enough air to push past her minds need to shut down long enough to bend her leg back for her to finger her hidden dagger strapped against her boot. Finessing the blade free, Cana quickly brought the dagger to the creature’s arm and cut down on their arm. She hacked and hacked away, drawing blood and chunks of flesh and muscle with every violent stab until eventually, she broke free from the clutches of his grip.

Once her feet touched the ground she fell to her knees, coughing and panting great mouthfuls of breath despite the awful stench of rot and death surrounding the alleyway. It took her a long time to get her bearings, let alone stand up without having to fight the urge to collapse back on the ground.

She would need a drink and a long hot shower after she finished cleaning up. The prospect made her grimace. _Master’s gonna kill me for not calling back up..._

Still, despite facing a powerful creature, Cana’s luck of the draw managed to save her skin. The joke would have been funny if the consequences of failure weren’t so heavy.

Ignoring the gore behind the creature, Cana looked around and walked toward her discarded knives and resheathed all save one blade them back into their holster before she returned to stand before the creature. Without hesitation, she slashed the demon’s throat and stared into its eyes as she watched it slowly bleed to death. With The Tower card immobilizing him, he could not draw breath to choke nor scream. Only his eyes conveyed their rage and hatred, even as the light died and faded to a milky film, she saw no regret.

Because she needed the satisfaction, she sunk the blade deep in the chest of the creature and twisted, hearing a crack before jerking the blade out. Carefully she peeled the tarot card away and stored it in her back pocket before flinging the blood off her knife.

Exhaustion after a battle was nothing new to Cana. In fact, normally she welcomed it if it were her usual skirmishes with demons. But this fight left her feeling uneasy, and revealed something that disturbed her. She would have to report to the Master, and that meant answering questions she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer.

Wearily, Cana finally looked at the last remanence of two of the demon's victims. The horror of what the demon had done to them still burned in Cana’s mind and she suddenly felt sick. Her stomach coiled and expelled what little was left along with the bitter taste of acid. Leaning over her knees until her stomach was finally empty, Cana spat out the remaining sickness before she stood straight.

“I’m sorry,” she told them despairingly, sorrow coloring her tone heavily as she fought the rise of tears. “I was too late to save you guys. But I killed him. The bastard’s dead, and he won’t hurt anyone else again. It’s not enough, but its all I’m good for.” 

“Rest in peace,” she said. Another card between her fingers was tossed to the remains and suddenly the alley burst into flames, a scant few seconds before the flames disappeared and only the walls were bare of its usual stains of garbage.

Much like her life, she could only burn away the recent evidence of horror and tragedy, but never the past grime and scum that lingered on. It brought her no comfort knowing this when it was an everyday occurrence. Life just liked kicking her in the metaphorical balls, but that was expected.

 

“Looks like I missed the party.”

 

And sometimes Fate threw in the unexpected.

 Maybe it was the leftover fight or flight instincts, or maybe just the adrenaline of the kill; either way, as soon as her awareness picked up another presence, she reacted without thought. Her hand moved to the knife at her side and with it, Cana _moved,_ crossing the space of several feet towards the stranger that observed from the shadows. Hand clutched their silk shirt tightly and pushed roughly against the wall. Using her body, she pinned them, inserting her leg between their knees so they couldn’t find turn away from the pressure she put on them. Her knife against their throat helped still any resistance, though she sensed they were calm despite her hostility.

“Y’know I’m feelin’ pretty **fucking** pissed off right now,” she hissed angrily. ”I’m tired, sore, and feel a _bitch_ of a headache coming, so unless you’ve got a death wish y’better give me _one_ good reason I should let you live.” 

“Normally I don’t mind when a woman pins me to the wall,” said the stranger- a _male_ stranger- who sounded far too amused for her liking. Which pissed her off _even more_. “But only when it will lead to more _pleasurable_ activities.”

It may have been her concussion, but she could have sworn he was **flirting**. Did he  _really_ just-- 

“Amazing,” Cana deadpanned. “You’ve got a knife at your throat and you’re propositioning me for sex?” In the minimal moonlight she could barely make out the glint of spectacles that framed his eyes, yet the quirk of his lips told her that his quip was  _intentional_  and lacking any shame. Just that alone pushed her knife closer towards his throat; she brought her face closer until her nose barely touched his. This close, she could hear his breathing and smell his cologne; it smelled expensive and earthy, with a hint of spice that made her want to stop and inhale. Cana would have followed that impulse if the situation were different.

“That would depend on you. After all," he said with a chuckle and a cant of his head. "You have me right where you want me."

"Then," she intoned lowly, moving another centimeter. "You won't mind if I kill you, right?"

"Well--”

“Loke! There you are-- thank god!”

 Another voice, this time Cana could identify as distinctly _female_ suddenly appeared from the end of the alleyway. Illuminated by the street light, Cana could see blonde hair and an amazing rack that rivaled her own before the figure approached the man she pinned to the wall at knifepoint.

“You ran off so suddenly I was worr-- _Loke what did you do?!_ ” The blonde looked between the two and finally settled on the man with an accusatory glare, her stance firm as her arms crossed in an irritated manner. Somehow that made Cana relax a little. 

“You’re not at all concerned by the fact that I’m being held by knifepoint?” said the man, his tone _clearly_ offended and hurt. 

 _Ass._  

“Knowing _you_ and how dumb you are, you probably did something to deserve it,” the woman shot back haughtily before facing Cana with an apologetic expression. “I apologize for whatever he said or did miss. ”

Oh she liked her. “It’s fine...he just startled me is all,” Cana offered cautiously, sparing him a glance. Slowly she retreated her knife and slide it back into place beside her hip. In the dim light, she couldn’t make out much of his features, but she could tell he was well-dressed by the luxurious feel of his shirt. Spectacles framed his eyes while a long mane of hair crowned his head, which while normally wouldn’t look good on most men, this guy seemed to make it his own style.

“I”m Lucy!” said the blonde. “This is my friend Loke, whom you’ve already, uh, met.”

“....Cana.” she said with a strained smile. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but--" 

"We're you're backup Ms.Cana," Lucy said at the same time, who still looked embarrassed. "We would have gotten here sooner but--"

"I’d like to be getting home. It’s late--” 

Words suddenly slowed as her mind suddenly felt heavy. Lucy's words hardly registered to Cana; as the exhaustion and pain from the recent fight finally took a toll on the brunette. Cana suddenly felt her body lose strength, her impending collapse to the ground saved by the sudden band of strength from the man she had just threatened mere moments ago. 

“Easy there,” he murmured. “You fought well for yourself, Hunter.”

“Is she okay?” Cana heard the worried tone from the girl named Lucy ask. “She seemed to be holding on pretty well for facing such a high powered demon but--”

 “I have a feeling this Hunter has been through a lot,” Loke said, shifting his hold on Cana so her head could be supported better on his shoulder. The scent of earth and spice was soothing. She turned her face against the silk fabric of his shirt where the scent of his cologne was strongest and breathed deep, just as she wanted to before. 

"Be careful Loke, she's hurt really bad..."

She should have been alarmed that Loke knew that she was a Hunter. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to care. Sleep was wrapping around her and fighting it became a losing battle the longer she remained cradled in Loke’s arms.

"Of course. I will treat her with care, I promise." 

He didn't have to sound so serious. She liked it better when he flirted with her, even in the face of certain death. Cana would have observed that feeling further if she wasn't so exhausted. Why did she feel like she could sleep for a thousand years? Must be because she just had the shit beaten out of her. Oh, and being choked probably had something to do with it. Yeah.

The last thing she thought before Cana slipped into unconsciousness was the surety that she was definitely fired from her day job.

**Author's Note:**

> Huehue.
> 
> *Edit 7/3/18: I've rearranged some parts of the story so it flowed better and also fixed some inconsistencies haha. Hopefully it'll make better sense now!
> 
> Let me know what you think! Again, kudos and comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!


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